


Snektember Drabble Collection

by Snowfilly1



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Adult Warlock Dowling, Aziraphale & Madame Tracy Friendship (Good Omens), Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Beaches, Crowley Has Self-Esteem Issues (Good Omens), Crowley is Good With Kids (Good Omens), Crowley is a Mess (Good Omens), Drabble Collection, Ducks, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post-Scene: The Ritz (Good Omens), References to Norse Religion & Lore, References to Shakespeare, Scene: Flood in Mesopotamia 3004 BC (Good Omens), Snake Crowley (Good Omens), Snektember Prompts, South Downs Cottage (Good Omens), The Ark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-01
Updated: 2020-09-30
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:08:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 31
Words: 5,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26236924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snowfilly1/pseuds/Snowfilly1
Summary: 8 Cuddling. 'You don't look well.'9 Historical. 'I was reading this mythology book...'10 Party. 'Your Crowley makes a handsome snake.’11 Very big/small Warlock's son hardly stirs.12 Fancy In which Snow tries to write a screenplay13 Seasonal 'This harvest is under my personal protection.’14 Drunk 'Crowley! Get down off those folios immediately!'15 Snek-cessorising He tries to play it off as a joke16 Tea time Warlock wondered if other kids had parties with snakes.17 AU A snake and a ram meet in a storm18 Coiled up 'One word from you, angel...’19 Shedding He hates it20 Mating rituals Crowley was a good looking human.21 Snake Crimes 'Thief,' Aziraphale chides him.22 Magic There is nothing of magic left.23 Heaven/Hell 'Aziraphale, what if you get bored with me?'24 Harry If they survive long enough, Aziraphale’s going to pay for this.25 Feral 'You are spoilt.'26 The Them 'Are they out of sight yet?'27 Snake Attributes 'Scales?' 'Yeah. Sorry.'28 Snake Aziraphale Sequel to Beach29 Seductive 'Just a minute, dear boy'30 Spooky Sequel to 'Very big / small31 Extra bonus scenes!
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 254
Kudos: 223
Collections: Snektember 2020





	1. Sunbathing

**Author's Note:**

> Just a small collection of snake things. I have 8 written currently, and this one is entirely free of warnings.

It takes six thousand years and change for Crowley to lie to Aziraphale directly. 

'This? For the warmth, angel.'

Aziraphale believes him. Brings a sunlounger out into their garden and settles himself alongside Crowley, careful not to cast any shadow over his scales. 

Honeysuckle drags its scent across their new Eden. 

Crowley uncoils himself. Brushes against some daisies, jewel bright in the grass. 

Aziraphale turns a page. Sips at lemonade they'd made yesterday. The sun ruffles through his shirt, touches his bare arms. Gives him an earthly halo. 

Crowley, eyes unblinking, stares.

He chose this form so he can watch.


	2. Basket

'Get out of there,' Crowley hisses.

The cat flicks a coal dust ear, a midnight tail. Sits.

'I said, get out of there.'

He's not sure if cats can speak snake, but the hiss he gets in response sounds distinctly threatening. 

'Yeah? Well, you'd make a lovely violin.'

The cat bristles. Crowley lashes his tail.

'What on...really? Crowley, why is there a cat in your basket?'

'I didn't put it there, angel.'

'Shall I make you a nice bed on the windowsill in the front room instead?'

He nods; allows himself to be carried out. The cat grins at him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All credit for 'You'd make a lovely violin' to DarkAngel2891, who gave me this line and the rest of the Scribbling Vaguely Downwards FB group, who gave me such wonderful ideas for threats to cats that I have a bonus 31st chapter to post at the end of the month, consisting of another meeting between our favourite snake and the poor cat.


	3. Ducks

'Are you seriously asking me if I've ever thought about eating the ducks?' Crowley's voice climbs an octave. 

Aziraphale has the grace to look slightly embarrassed. 'Well... I just thought...'

'You watched that bloody Attenborough documentary last night, didn't you? 

'No, dear, I just-'

'No, angel, I don't hunt baby lizards and I certainly don't want to eat raw ducks. Specially ones you've given names to.'

'I have not given the ducks names. That would be ridiculous.'

'No?'

Aziraphale wriggles. Looks down. 

Crowley grins. 'You did name them! I knew it. Anyway, the feathers stick in my fangs something awful.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The David Attenborough documentary scene with black snakes hunting a new clutch of baby lizards is probably the most intense few minutes of TV I've ever seen. How Aziraphale got from there to ducks is anyone's guess.


	4. Snakes (Not) On A Plane

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little double drabble.

Aziraphale had been listening to Crowley rant for five minutes now, very aware that the demon hadn't actually taken a breath in that time. 

'I take it you don't like the idea then, darling?'

Crowley frowned. 'I like the idea of going away. Just...not that. No planes.'

'Why?' He rested a hand on Crowley's, reassuring. 

'Can you imagine what it feels like when your ears need to pop but you don't have ears? It bloody hurts, angel.'

He pulled Aziraphale's hand to the side of his face; a moment later and skin become scales. Another few seconds and Crowley hissed. 

'Feel that? No ears. No good on planes.'

'What about, you know, your usual form? Isn't that different?'

He'd never known how well a snake could glare until recently. Crowley's yellow eyes fixed on him, conveying annoyance and fondness at the same time. 

'Nope. Snakes don't do well on planes.'

He dragged his fingers across Crowley's cheek. 'In that case, a ship it is. Or we can fly ourselves. That might be fun. '

Crowley twined himself across the couch, pushed against Aziraphale's side. 'You don't mind?'

'Dearest, I would never want to do anything that hurts you. No planes.'


	5. Beach

It isn't their beach. Isn't anyone's really; a spit of kelp, gritty sand and flat rocks, accessible only by scrambling down the cliff path. Neither of them have ever seen a human here. 

Neither of them are sure the other didn't miracle it up. 

Crowley drapes across a rock. The sun weighs heavily, decadently, on his scales.

He stares at the silver-blue sea. 

'Are you sure?' he asks. 

'Yes?'

The air shifts. A blue and cream snake scrabbles frantically up the rock, wriggles alongside him. Makes a humming noise he's sure snakes can't. 

'Oooh. I see why you like this.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd written this BEFORE I realised there's also a Snek!Aziraphale prompt on the list. Guess that'll have to be a sequel. 
> 
> The beach is based on Rinsey / Porthcew Cove in Cornwall. No, I don't know why it has two names! https://www.ucl.ac.uk/EarthSci/people/lidunka/SWEngland/Rinsey.htm


	6. Shakespeare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A drabble and a half, 150 words, as it wouldn't fit 100. Blame Will.

"O serpent heart-"

'Don't do this to me, angel. You know the whole damned play off by heart, why'd you have to quote that bit?'

'Well, obviously you know it off by heart too, if you know that bit as well.'

'In that case, we don't need to go freeze to death watching one lot of idiots pretend to be another lot of idiots who end up killing themselves. '

"Fiend-"

'Don't you dare call me angelical. Aziraphale, I'll freeze. '

"Beautiful-"

'You've got that backward. Alright, alright. I'll die of cold for you.'

'I'll keep you warm, dearest.'

Later, Crowley had to agree that watching Romeo and Juliet in snake form, huddled small in Aziraphale's coat as they sat in the park, wasn't a bad way to do it. He did draw the line at Aziraphale coming home with him and proclaiming the flat "so fair a cave" though.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale is indeed quoting Romeo and Juliet at his demon, and does have 'fiend angelical' and 'beautiful tyrant' round the wrong way. How does Mr. 'I prefer the funny ones' know it so well? I think he might have fed Shakespeare some lines for this one as well.


	7. Naps

'Sorry, angel. Gotta go. Tire...' Crowley interrupts himself, yawning. Shoves a hand against his eyes.  
Aziraphale's still on a post-Ritz high. Fizzing with energy and excitement. The first night of being on their own sides, and Crowley's letting him down already. 

'Stay here.'

'What?' He's tired down to his bones, he's misheard. 

'Stay here. Have your nap here.' 

'Was gonna snake out,' he mutters. Doesn't say how that form has fewer bits that will ache, a brain that's less prone to nightmares, a body that won't get drenched in panic sweat as he fights to wake. 

'Would the couch be too small for you then, dear? I can always put a blanket on the floor if you prefer. Or there's the bed.'

Crowley wants to protest, to say something about the folly of tucking giant demonic snakes into your bed. Instead, he yawns again; asks 'could you stay?'

Aziraphale blinks. 'I was going to stay with you, of course. The bed might be warmest.'

Minutes later, he's a coil of scales underneath the angel's tartan quilt, and Aziraphale is settled with a book. 

'Sweet dreams, dearest.'

He wriggles closer. Relaxes for the first time in eleven years. Aziraphale holds him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Early afternoon update as I'm unable to sneak away from my birthday meal tonight to post!


	8. Cuddling

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set on the Ark. Vomiting, general miserableness. I made it 8 chapters before I reverted to type and started making Crowley suffer.

Demons can be sick. That's today's -tonight's?- discovery. Crawly hunches over, kneeling on dirty straw and wet wood, resting against the creaking planks. 

The Ark pitches again. 

He groans. It's a low, pitiful noise down here, alone in the dark. 

The rain bounces against the wood, each drop seeming to be aimed with malice and cruelty behind it. Not for the first time, Crawly curses his imagination. 

Rain can't actually be holy, can it?

His stomach protests again. 

By the time Aziraphale finds him, he's curled up, eyes streaming. 

'Crawly? I didn't know you were...you don't look well. Can I help?'

He'd expected a lot of things if the angel caught him onboard. None of them had been that simple offer of kindness. 

'Are you cold? I'm cold. We could...' and he half reaches out.

Crawly hisses agreement and stops fighting his protesting body. Relaxes into his snake form, which is still cold but doesn't feel quite so ill. Slithers across to Aziraphale and looks up at him. 

There's no judgement. Just a hand extended. He finds himself cuddled against Aziraphale's chest. 

'You're not cold.'

'No, dear, but you are,' and Aziraphale's voice blocks out the cruelty of the rain.


	9. Historical / Through the Ages

He's twined around Aziraphale, the pair of them stretching the length of the couch. A book is carefully balanced on his back, not digging into his scales, just resting. His snout is resting over Aziraphale's heart, and he's more comfortable, more at home, than any demon ever has a right to be.

'Dearest?'

'Mmmm?'

'I was reading a mythology book earlier, and well... there was this awfully familiar serpent in it.'

A hand soothes down Crowley's back, calming him before he realises he's tensed. He keeps very still.

'Were you around Scandinavia in the eighth century or so?'

He thinks about slithering down to the floor, but although Aziraphale would never hold him against his will, the angel has no scruples about repeatedly bringing up embarrassing moments of history. It'll be like the Cleopatra thing all over again.

'Dunno about familiar. Don't see me going around biting my own tail, or hiding in the bottom of oceans, do you?'

The angel is grinning. Never a good sign. 'No, but I have seen you make yourself a snake too big to move so... maybe you got a bit carried away.'

He hisses, softly. 

'You looked positively terrifying in the artwork, darling.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The World or Midgard Serpent is meant to play a large role in Ragnarok. I'm sure Crowley has plenty to say about that.


	10. Party

Tracey has seen a lot in 64 years. A giant black and red snake coiled neatly on Anathema's sofa, wearing a party hat, doesn't make the top ten. 

'There you go.' She removes the wine glass from one loop of scales. 'You have a nice nap, dear.'

She wanders into the kitchen in search of breakfast. Finds a green faced Newt frying eggs and staring at his engagement ring as if it might vanish and Aziraphale making tea. 

'Morning, loves. Your Mister Crowley makes a handsome snake, doesn't he? Two sugars for me, ta.'

'Sorry?' Aziraphale turns, bumping into Newt. 'Snake?'

'Oh, yes. In the front room. Took his wine away before he could stain those gorgeous scales of his. Snakeskin's a right bugger to clean.'  
'He...Uh...' Aziraphale glances at Newt, then smiles. 'He generally only does that when he feels quite at home. I did wonder where he'd gone.'

A few minutes later, Tracey nudges Crowley roughly where his shoulders ought to be, and waves a mug of coffee under his nose. 'C'mon, you. No being late for the photographer now.'

The vast serpent yawns, hat falling over his yellow eyes. Tracey smiles at his half-asleep hiss: 'Where's angel?'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The point of doing these was to make myself write short. I failed, obviously. Have another double drabble while I think about renaming the whole thing.


	11. Very big or very small

Aziraphale smiles as he sees a tiny black snake curled up on the Moses basket. Beneath a white blanket, Warlock's son hardly stirs. 

Nor does Crowley. His yellow eyes look wide awake but Aziraphale can feel the peacefulness of his dreams, pulling little Anthony down with him. 

Quiet as only an angel can be, he potters around the unfamiliar kitchen and makes himself cocoa. Takes it back to his sleeping husband and their godson. Warlock and Aparna are back tomorrow, but for now, they can have this night of being almost a family. 

Crowley shifts in his dreams. Anthony laughs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do snakes make good baby sitters? I have no idea, frankly.


	12. Fancy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've tried to format this in the same way as the script book, but my only other source of info about scripts is Neil's short story collections where he mentioned a few things, so this is probably horrific. My apologies to any actual screen writers out there. 
> 
> (If it seems familiar, I posted the bare bones of this on Facebook a while back.)

Ext. Warlock's Garden - Early Morning - 2013

_In front of a child's play set - a plastic swing, a slide, some trucks laying knocked over. A disturbed looking sand pit._

HARRIET

Warlock had a fancy that he saw a snake in his sandpit this morning, so do be careful, Mr Francis. I would hate to think of you disturbing an adder under the bushes. I'm having a pest controller in tomorrow.'

Int. The Gardener's rooms - that evening - 2013

_There is a small fire going. Two bottles of wine are open on the table. Books are not quite hidden everywhere._

GARDENER

A sandpit, dear? Really

NANNY (defensively, her accent sounds more like Crowley's here)

Isss nice, angel. All warm an' soft. Good for the scales.

GARDENER

Well, maybe after dark next time, dearest. Warlock thought you were an adder.

NANNY

An adder? An adder? Do I look like an adder to you? We're taking that boy to the zoo next week.

GARDENER

Well, as long as you stay out of their sandpit.

Ext. Warlock's garden - night - a few weeks later - 2013

_It's a full moon. The trees are dropping their leaves. Slow pan of camera to zoom in on a giant black and red snake barrowing in the sandpit, looping around himself and then disappearing under the sand again. It's Crowley. He's having fun._

_Pull back to show Aziraphale standing close by. He's smiling._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the cutest snake in a sandpit video, and the inspiration for this: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=58oFojsyZps


	13. Seasonal

The villagers glared at Aziraphale. He couldn't blame them; one lot of supernatural disturbances in a day was enough for anyone, and his attempts at anonymity weren't being helped by the snake twisting in his arms. 

'Very sorry. I can promise, this whole harvest is under my protection, you can carry on with the Neck now, Crowley, dear, will you shut up, really I am very sorry...'

'I nearly got trampled by a cart horse, angel. Where's my sympathy?'

Aziraphale sighed. 'Please be quiet a while longer, and if you could change back, I'd be grateful. And my sympathy is lacking until I find out why you were hiding in that last corn. Honestly, it's a miracle you didn't get scythed.'

There was a petulant silence. 

'Well, I'd best keep hold of harvest festival blessings in future then.'

He walked until sundown, when Crowley deigned to shift back to human form. He was wearing a crown of autumn leaves, a match for his long hair. 'I'll tell you later, angel. Promise.'

It took a lot of alcohol before the demon admitted to have fallen asleep in the sun instead of tempting the squire. Aziraphale wasn't sure what else he'd expected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'Crying the Neck' is an old Harvest tradition in Devon and Cornwall. It used to involve cutting the last few stalks of corn or wheat, gathering it into a 'neck' or twist and holding it aloft. Depending on area, there were different shouts or calls and response chants for the moment, which marked the end of Harvest. It's still practiced in a ceremonial way in parts of Cornwall. 
> 
> A demonic snake hiding in the last row would not go down well.


	14. Drunk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Canon typical alcohol use and cruelty to innocent folios.
> 
> This one, as they all are really, is for my dearest Daydreamingofdragons who, when I mistyped mice for nice earlier today, relied with the outline of this drabble.

'Crowley, get down off those folios! Immediately!'

There was a slither, a crash, and a snake writhing on the floor in the middle of a cloud of dust and books. 

'You horrible serpent! You've got no grip when you're drunk, you know that. What were you doing up there anyway?'

Crowley made a very poor job of moving in a straight line towards him. His eyes were unfocused. 'Mouses. Big mouses up there. Chassssed 'em.'

'Oh for...are you alright, dear? You need to sober up. That was the plastic rat you brought me last Christmas to keep the customers away.'


	15. Snek-cessorising

He tries to make a joke of it, at first. 'That outfit looks like it could use a scarf, angel,' and 'if you didn't want a body-warmer, you only had to say.'

Aziraphale plays along with it, remonstrating gently and allowing Crowley to rest wherever he's put himself. 'Your scales clash horribly, my dear,' and 'isn't this rather staid for you?'

If he winds the tip of his tail around Aziraphale's wrist as a bracelet, if he loops himself around the angel's overcoat like an old fashioned sash...well. It's a joke. It's something he does to tease Aziraphale. 

'Whatever are you doing, my dear? That can't be comfortable.'

It isn't, and he doesn't mind. Aziraphale is close, Aziraphale is warm; most important of all, Aziraphale isn't gone. Draped over him like an accessory, Crowley can not only hear his heartbeat but feel it. 

Not that that matters. He doesn't need the reassurance. 

'You never used to do this,' Aziraphale notes one evening. Crowley's doing his scarf impression, as Aziraphale calls it, curled around his neck and shoulders. 

Crowley nuzzles the curve of his neck and doesn't say anything, even to himself.

'It's alright, dear. We can do whatever you need.'


	16. Tea Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warlock's family are implied to be not very nice in this one. Not abusive, just not caring.

Lots of kids have tea parties for their toys. Warlock isn't alone in that, but he does wonder, in later years, if he was the only kid who had a giant red and black snake come for tea. 

It was always a very polite snake, he remembered. Careful not to knock cups over, and would always lounge in a chair with its head on the table, playing at being human. It would hold long conversations with his toys, and with Warlock himself, although of course he didn't understand snake. 

But it listened, that was the thing. 

Even when it was offering plastic cups to threadbare teddies, or moving plates around in front of Action Man, it was listening, and to Warlock, that was a lot more uncommon than a snake in his room. 

He'd talked to it a lot. Stuff about school and his stupid family and big, weird, important stuff that all children have. 

Of course, he doesn't believe any of his memories. His mother would never have allowed it. Nanny would probably have set the snake to washing up. Brother Francis would have made it a flower crown or something. 

It couldn't have happened. 

And yet. 

And yet...


	17. AU

'What you doing here?' the snake asked. 

The ram turned to brace himself against the lashing rain. The snake moved away from his hooves. 

'Looking for somewhere to graze. I'm sorry, I didn't realise this was your territory.'

The snake lashed its tail, spraying water everywhere. 'Not my territory. They're building houses in our wood, and we all left. We were going to a nature reserve.'

'We?' He looked around. There was only steep heathland, already starting to run with water. 

'Oh, y'know. The foxes and badgers and moles and things. The stupid pheasants. They were all travelling too fast for me, though, so...'

Its chin dropped into the mud. The ram came a little closer. 

'Where's your flock?'

'I uh...lost a fight. They chased me out.' He half turned and let the snake see his wounds. His fleece was bloodstained. 

There was a flash of something that might have been sympathy in the golden yellow eyes. He'd never seen a snake like this before; one prepared to talk rather than strike. 

'You could stay here tonight,' the snake offered. 'Doesn't look like our sides want us, does it?'

Eventually, the ram started to graze. The snake sheltered alongside him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this draws from the work of Colin Dann: Crowely is playing a part from his Animals of Farthing Wood books, which later became a TV show, and Aziraphale takes the role of Jacob, the Ram of Sweetriver, from the book of the same name. I couldn't work King of the Vagabonds in here, as I'm not sure either of them wanted to be a cat! 
> 
> I loved those books as a kid. I was googling fictional snakes when I came across Adder from Farthing Wood and that was that!


	18. Coiled up somewhere inappropriate

'If I hear one word from you, angel...'

Crowley sees the stifled grin and hisses in annoyance. 

'Oh, Crowley, really. Would I say anything?'

He runs through a mental list of all the other times Aziraphale has found 'saying something' to be utterly irresistible, but stays silent. It'll only be more ammunition for teasing. 

'Now, come here and let me help you.'

Lacking any other option, he slithers over. 

'I really didn't realise that mud stuck to your scales quite like that. Maybe a bath would help?'

Crowley tries to look as dignified as possible, which isn't easy given that he's covered in thick reddish mud. 'C'mon, give me a hand here. 'M not going back to the flat looking like this.'  
'Very well,' and Aziraphale snaps his fingers. 'You'll still need a bath. No fixing that with miracles.'

Crowley shudders as most of the mud vanishes. His scales still itch with it. 'Thank you.'

'It's nothing, my dear boy. Just don't coil up to sleep in a marsh next time, will you?'

It takes the best part of two days to get the mud entirely out of his skin, and considerably longer for Aziraphale to stop laughing about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I also have a one shot fic about Crowley Snek coiling up somewhere he shouldn't - Reluctant Passenger - where Aziraphale learns he ought to check cars for sleepy demons before driving away if you'd like to take a look: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23583454


	19. Shedding / Moulting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're back to my normal fare of 'Crowley hates himself.' Self loathing and running away from your problems as a coping strategy.

He hates it. The dirty helplessness of it; the panic of having his eyes obscured, the filthy rustle of his own skin crumpling around him like a shroud. 

It's vile. Disgusting. Demonic, in a way that threatens to turn his stomach and make his body ache with shame if he tries to think about it human form. 

Aziraphale doesn't know. It's been his own private shame, tucked away in the privacy of whatever he using as a lair at the time. Only once a century or so, but that's added up over the millennia. He knows the warning signs. 

It's been seven months since the world didn't end, and his whole body is itching with the desire to turn snake and get it over with. 

It's the second night in a row he hasn't gone to bed with Aziraphale. Instead, he's pacing the kitchen above the book shop, digging his fingers into his palms and hissing. He can feel the skin across his shoulders trying to force a change to scales. 

Aziraphale will think it's disgusting. 

Aziraphale is going to find out. 

Crowley's half blind with tears when he leaves. 

He should have known better. Demons don't get happy endings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise you there is a happy ending to this story! Aziraphale realises something is wrong, goes to find Crowley and looks after as tenderly as a snake could need, and afterwards as lovingly as a demon could wish. It’s not perfect, but it’s not as bad as Crowley feared.


	20. Mating rituals

Crowley is, objectively, good looking in his human form. He's had plenty of people of all genders tell him that directly, and he's been able to observe the way plenty of others have looked at him or spoken about him behind his back. 

The fact that he's never been interested, never looked at anyone who isn't Aziraphale, in that way doesn't mean he's ignorant of how the whole thing works. He's even enjoyed it at times; for someone who's been cast out and unwanted, the attention can be comforting. He's not worthless if there's people out there who want him. 

Aziraphale's noticed it, of course. He's spent far too long around humans not to notice flirting, although it took him centuries to notice Crowley's. 

What Crowley has never had cause to share before is that it extends to his snake form as well. 

Which is why Aziraphale is currently in danger of falling off their bench laughing, Crowley has retreated to his human form and is blushing enough to clash with his hair, and an extremely determined snake is twining itself in tangles at their feet. 

'Sorry, I'm engaged' doesn't have a very good direct translation to snake after all.


	21. Snake Crimes

'Thief,' Aziraphale chides him. 'Fiend.'

Crowley lifts his snout from the wine. Aziraphale smiles at him. 

'Not a thief. You left it unattended and wandered off to snuggle your books. Would have gone off the time you got back.'

'I don't snuggle them, you daft serpent. You've got wine all over yourself, you know that?'

'You do! You'd snog them if you weren't worried about smudging the ink which is more consideration than you give my lipstick.'

'Maybe the books aren't quite as alluring as you, Crowley. Now, kindly get your nose out my drink, and I'll clean you up.'


	22. Magic

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW for Crowley seeing humans doing something very unpleasant - not described but his reactions are. I know what I think it is he's seen.

Crowley, Crawly who had been, had wanted to believe in magic from the time he first saw the humans. Wanted to believe they'd found or learnt something beautiful, something special, that belonged only to them. 

He remembers the sunfire taste of miracles. He knows the coal dust spark of demonic miracles, and tries not to think about the old clothes comfort that was being in God's presence when She made something. 

A stupid, vain little hope, one that he's never shared with anyone. Just the idea that maybe humans could be as special in reality as they were in his long ago dreams. 

Now, he lays snake form and chilled, yellow eyes half glazed with shock. Horror is a physical presence in this crude shelter behind a dead tree, weighing down on his scales. His body clenches down into the wet earth as though it might protect him. The leaves are dead, a wreath of autumn colours torn and scattered asunder. 

He wants Aziraphale. He wants not to be here. He wants to forget what he's seen and heard and will be given credit for. 

There is nothing of magic, of hope, left in the humans. He knows that now.


	23. In Heaven or Hell

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, this turned into a ficlet rather than a drabble. 
> 
> CW for what is, basically, an anxiety attack and Crowley being worried that Aziraphale isn't happy with their relationship and that he deserves someone better.

'Aziraphale?'

The angel laid his book down, turned to look at Crowley who was stretched snake form in the grass underneath the apple tree. 

'You...you'd tell me, wouldn't you, if you were getting fed up with this? If you...wanted something different or me to change, you wouldn't just keep saying you were happy, would you?'

'Crowley?' There was something almost panicked in his tone. 'Crowley, what's brought this on, dearest?'

He stretched out, coiled up, stretched again, uneasy.

'I don't know.'

Aziraphale's shadow was cold against his scales, but the angel's hands were warmer than the sunshine. 'Dearest, look at me, please.'

He twisted away and Aziraphale let him. Of course he did; he'd never force Crowley into anything. Crowley couldn't make it work the other way around; it had been his idea to move here, his idea to plant the garden, his wanting to rest away from the world a while that kept the angel here. 

'Angel,' and the distress in the name was enough to make Aziraphale touch him again, trying to comfort him. 'Angel.'

'I'm here.'

Crowley tried to apologise. It came out as a hiss. 

'I'm happy with this. Beyond happy, living with you, being your partner, spending days like this with you.'

He half twisted away again. 'Days like thissss....All I've done is lay around as a snake in the sun and enjoy myself...Aren't you, Aziraphale...what if you get bored with me?'

'I could never get bored with you, my love. As long as you're happy...Are you happy, Crowley?'

He made a hissing noise that probably would have been a sob if he was human. 'Yes. Earlier, I was thinking it was like Heaven . Like how Heaven was meant to be, maybe. Only maybe it's different for you. I know I do a lot of things wrong and maybe you'll get fed up with me or something, and it's...too good? Is that stupid?'

'Crowley,' and there was a comfort in hearing his lover repeat his name like that. 'Crowley, listen to me. I am happy here. Same as you. If all we do for the rest of the summer is sit here and rest and I get to read while you're basking, that will be wonderful. And no-one is going to take this away from us. I promise.'

A few deep, shuddering breaths later, Crowley slithered onto Aziraphale and wrapped himself around as best as he could manage. The angel held him tightly, smoothed his scales down in a continuous caress. 

'Ssssory. Don't think I'm much good at this being happy thing.'

'You're perfect. Always have been. You said this is like Heaven for you, it's the same for me, dearest. Trust me.'

Crowley willed himself to do.


	24. Meeting Harry the Rabbit

'Angel, are you still fretting about that damned magic show? I told you, once the Hellhound shows up, no-one's going to be interested. There's not gonna be anything for anyone to be interested in.'

'It's the look of the thing, Crowley. As a member of the Magic Circle, it wouldn't do to let appearances slide would it?'

Crowley shook his head and left the angel sorting through his trunk. The afternoon sun was just right for napping in. Somewhere halfway to sleep, he gave up on the limbs entirely and sunk down into scales, twisting to fit fully in the warmest patch of sunlight. 

'Crowley! Wake up!'

Crowley shot to attention, hissing in alarm, and then confusion as something flashed past his head. Small, white...hopping?

'Harry's got loose already, oh this is terrible, I brought him for the act...'

'You brought a rabbit,' he managed. 

'I'm afraid he'll do terrible damage to the books if I don't catch him.'

Crowley slithered off the couch and started hunting. He sneezed loudly as he crawled through a thick patch of dust, and the rabbit shot off in the opposite direction. 

If they survived long enough, Aziraphale was going to pay for this.


	25. Feral

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today is soft happy fluff day.

'You,' Aziraphale told him, 'are spoilt.'

Crowley hissed his agreement, reaching up to rub his snout against Aziraphale's face. 

'Taking up all the bed. Both lots of pillows. The whole quilt.'

Aziraphale was smiling. That was enough to make their room noontime bright; to make Crowley's whole form fizz with happiness. 

'You still need to move, you ridiculous serpent.'

He flicked his tongue on Aziraphale's cheek, the light stubble the angel had been growing delightfully rough. 'Why?'

'Because I can't get to bed with you there, and I've got your cocoa so it'd be sad if I went back downstairs and left you here lounging around.'

'Warm here,' he teased. 'Staying put.'

'You'll do no such thing. I'll tickle you.'

''M a snake, remember? Fierce, feral. I'd bite you if you tried.'

Aziraphale laughed, stroked down the back of his head and upper body. 'Dearest, you are the furthest thing from feral. Love hath made thee -'

'No! Angel, I forbid you from quoting slushy Shakespeare nonsense at me in my own bed!'

'Our own bed, dear. Now, move over and let me get in otherwise I'll start on the sonnets.'

Reminding himself that snakes couldn't blush, Crowley wriggled over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale is quoting 'As You Like It,' Act 4, Scene 3. "Love hath made thee a tame snake."


	26. The Them

Crowley wrapped himself a bit tighter around the tree branch and grinned down at Pepper's little sister, who gave him a conspiratorial thumbs up in response. 'Are they out of sight yet?'

'Yes...oh no, Dog's coming back, that means Adam's gonna come wiv him.' 

'Go over to that rhododendron bush and pretend to be looking for me there. They won't know I'm up here.'

'Crowley?'

'Mmm?'

'What's a rho-dead-row-do- whatever bush?'

He pointed it out and watched the girl run off and pretend to search. As expected, Adam and Dog soon wandered off again, still searching for a human-shaped demon. 

'I found him! I found him!' 

He took the cue to slide down the tree and back into his human form before The Them came running back, all looking a bit surprised. 

'I searched this bit already,' Wensley said.

'Couldn't have,' Brian declared.

Pepper gave her sister an assessing look. 'Why aren't there footprints at the bottom of that tree but there are some right by it? I thought we all said no occult stuff in hide and seek.'

Crowley just smiled at them all, and grabbed hold of Dog's collar so Adam could have a head start at hiding.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pepper's little sister never made it into the show but I thought she was cool in the book. And Crowley would totally cheat at hide and seek to make sure the little kid got a chance at winning every now and then.


	27. Snake Attributes

'Scales?'

Crowley twisted, letting Aziraphale see them twining down his neck. 'Yeah. Sorry.'

'I didn't mean that.' Aziraphale's voice was gentle, kind. 'I meant, is it alright to kiss them as well? I don't want to...hurt you or if you didn't like it.'

He should have been more trusting. If Aziraphale could stare into Crowley's hell-forged eyes, he could cope with scales. 

'I dunno. Never, no-one's touched 'em. Can you tell you if I don't like it?'

'Always.'

Aziraphale carried on where he'd left off, pressing kisses below Crowley's ear, down his neck, kissing scales and skin with equal reverence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some months back I wrote a one shot where Crowley was worried that Aziraphale wouldn't want to kiss him because of his snake tongue. It's one of the few things I've written that I actually, whole heartedly, like. It's at https://archiveofourown.org/works/22866940 if you'd like to read 800 words of nervous Crowley.


	28. Snake Aziraphale

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A direct sequel to 'beach.'

'Dearest,' the blue and cream snake hisses a long while later, 'I think we should head back. It's nearly dinner time.'

Crowley coils against him, feeling the sand warm under his belly and Aziraphale's scales soft alongside his. 'Five minutes?'

A head moves to rest on top of his. 'You say that every morning, you slothful serpent.'

'That's rich, coming from someone who's currently a serpent himself.'

'Yes, but I'm awake.'

Crowley gazes at him, ocean and sunshine colours against the dark rock, and wonders if any snake, if anyone, has ever loved as ardently as he loves his angel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These last few days of September are always incredibly hard for me, if I vanish without posting the last couple rest assured they're written and will be posted as soon as possible. I will attempt to tough it out though.


	29. Seductive

'Just a minute, dear boy.'

Crowley lets himself in anyway, leans against Aziraphale's desk and fiddles with flowers that he's thinking about miracling out of existence again. Maybe he's jumping to conclusions, reading too much in 'come to dinner with me.' 

He hears Aziraphale coming downstairs. Catches the light scent of his cologne and the older, truer scent that he remembers from Eden and knows on a heart-deep level. 

Crowley turns to look at the angel. 

Crowley hits the bookshop floor in an overwhelmed coil of scales. 

He'd been vaguely prepared for a date. Black tie hadn't entered the equation.


	30. Spooky

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A sequel to 'very big or very small.'

'What do you reckon, angel?'

'Positively terrifying, dearest. Hold still, I think this sheet needs to come over a bit more, so we can see at least some of your tail.'

Crowley did as requested, although the angel's hands were warm enough to be distracting. Warlock was in the same room, after all.

'I still don't know if ghost snakes are meant to be black,' Warlock pointed out once they'd finished fitting the sheet and Crowley had used a few demonic miracles to make sure it stayed put. 

'I'm not letting Aziraphale loose with the facepaint again, not after last time.'

'Ssshush, you, otherwise you can walk the route tonight.'

Crowley butted his head against the angel's calf, the nearest he could get to an affectionate shove in this form, and flowed up into Aziraphale's arms, wrapped himself and the ghost costume around Aziraphale's neck. 

Aparna came in with Anthony in her arms; he was dressed in a dinosaur costume. 'Are we all ready?'

Warlock stewarded them out the door, into a surprisingly warm and starlit Halloween night. Aziraphale smiled and extended his wings; Crowley lent against his angel and hissed at the first passerby they saw. All was well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Extra bonus scenes in next chapter!


	31. Bonus scenes!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two bonus scenes and one headcanon

Basket (with a thank you to everyone in the Scribbling Vaguely Downwards FB group, who provided all of these excellent curses. I'm only sorry I couldn't use the lot) A scene set a few weeks after the chapter. 

'Crowley!'

'What?'

'You know full well what, you fiend. I will not have you cursing anything on my premises. Do you understand me?'

The snake uncoiled enough that he could see one eye. 'You said thank you for making that bloke remember a non-existent meeting yesterday.'

'He was trying to buy a first edition Wilde, that's different! No cursing anything that lives here.'

'Oh. Angel, is that about that wretched cat again? It was in my basket. Again.'

'And you could have just moved it! You didn't need to persuade the owners to buy a puppy. That was mean.'

'Aziraphale, IF I wanted to be mean to a cat, I could have been. Coulda wished for all his scratch posts to be smooth, all his tuna cans to turn to creamed corn, for his owners to take up recycling so he never had a box to sit in, for his litterbox sand to stick to him, for sticky furballs -'

'I'm finding the amount of thought you've put into creative cat curses rather disturbing, dearest.'

'The floor was cold! He was in my basket! I didn't shove him into the proverbial bag, or get a daycare to open up next door or even make it so he couldn't ever catch the red dot, or that he gets caught up in the carpet when he scratches. I was positively restrained. Alright, he might always have a half empty foodbowl but don't cats do that anyway?'

'Crowley?'

'Yes?'

'Let me deal with the cat next time, please.'

***

Magic

When I wrote this chapter, I mentally set it a few weeks after the Crucifixion. Crowley's had enough time to start processing what he saw but isn't coping well. This is the start of a downwards spiral that ends in Rome a few years later. 

***

Shedding (Two little scenes that carry on directly from the chapter)

'What's wrong, Crowley?'

'Nothing. Nothing's wrong, go away.'

Aziraphale lent against the front door, tried to feel for any danger or threats. All he could find was...unease? Discomfort?

'You've never asked me to do that before. Not in six thousand years.'

'Don't you think that might mean I've got a bloody good reason for it then? Go away, angel.'

'No. If we're on our own side, then...no, you're not sending me away, whatever's wrong.'

He felt Crowley's sigh rather than heard it; not an acceptance, more the acquiescence of someone who was too tired to keep fighting. 

'You'll hate it.'

'I can't, dearest. Whatever it is, I couldn't hate it if it's you.' He pushed the door open and found Crowley curled up on the floor, a picture of abject misery. 

'Oh...dearest, you're shedding!'  
'Tell me something I don't know,' the snake grumbled. His eyes were clouded, skin hung in tatters around him. 

Aziraphale went to him anyway, despite the hissing, despite the head swinging. 'Are you alright? Does it hurt?'

'Bloody annoying isss what it issss, angel.'

'Let me help you.'

After a long silence, Crowley nodded. 

***  
He woke up with Crowley still snaked out across his lap, head nestled against Aziraphale's shoulders. His eyes were open, treasure bright now, and his scales sleeker and more beautiful than Aziraphale ever recalled seeing. He shone, gleamed to match his human form hair. 

'Can feel that.'

'What?'

'You. Thinking sappy nonsense thoughts. Demon, remember?'

'A beautiful one at that.'

Crowley's tongue flicked against Aziraphale's cheek; a thank you. Aziraphale kissed the top of his head. 'Next time you shed, tell me first, and I'll be here. Promise?'

'Promisssse.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for the lovely comments, I hope you've enjoyed reading these as much as I've enjoyed writing them. I'd love to know if you had a particular favourite chapter. I think mine was drunk bookshop snake Crowley falling off the shelves. 
> 
> My next small project is a few oneshots for Kinktober, which is roughly 5 million miles outside my comfort zone.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Snektember 2020 Day 7: Naps](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26536774) by [Snowfilly1](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snowfilly1/pseuds/Snowfilly1), [Yvesriba](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yvesriba/pseuds/Yvesriba)
  * [Shed Your Shadows](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26864353) by [rattatatosk](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rattatatosk/pseuds/rattatatosk)




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